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  Fanny, looking up, in her unaffected way, into his face, exclaimed: 'Oh, did you know my mother, sir? I never did – that is to say, I can't remember that I did!' She hesitated, and then asked shyly: 'Are you Mr Stacy Calverleigh's uncle? He is a particular friend of mine!'

  If anything, thought Abby, could convince Miles Calverleigh that Fanny was a lamb to be guarded from stray wolves, the artlessness of this remark must have done so. She hoped, but could not be sure. His expression was that of a man listening with slightly bored indulgence to a child's prattle. He said: 'Then you will be able to introduce him to me, won't you?'

  It was evident, from the look of surprise in Fanny's eyes, that Mr Stacy Calverleigh had told her nothing about his reprobate uncle: an omission for which, decided Abby, submitting the matter to dispassionate consideration, he could scarcely be blamed. Fanny said, on the edge of laughter: 'Oh – ! You are joking me, aren't you? Did I say something gooseish? Of course

  you must know Stacy much better than I do!'

  'On the contrary! I don't know him at all – shouldn't recognise him if he walked into the room at this moment! When I left England he must have been in leading-strings.'

  'Oh, I see!' said Fanny, her puzzled brow clearing.

  'Well, I'll venture to say that you won't be disappointed in him!' said Lady Weaverham. 'Though I won't say you may not mistake him for a Bond Street Spark, for I did so myself, until I found he was no such thing. He's not above being pleased, and, what is more, his head hasn't been turned, which it might well have been for the caps that have been set at him in Bath!' She added, as Fanny blushed scarlet, and moved away from Mr Calverleigh: 'No, no, my dear, I don't mean you! The boot is quite on the other leg! Not a bit of heed will he pay to the other girls, and I'm sure I'm not surprised!' A fat chuckle shook her massive bosom; she completed Fanny's discomfiture by saying: 'Many's the time Sir Joshua has said to me that you bear the palm, my dear – not that he had any need to, because well do I know it!'

  At this point, Oliver won Abby's approval by withdrawing Fanny a little away from the group, under pretext of pointing something out to her in the street. They sat down together, and were soon joined by Lavinia and Miss Sophia Weaverham, all four chatting happily until the party was broken up by Lady Weaverham, who heaved herself up from her chair, saying that she and Sophy must be off, or Sir Joshua would be wondering what had become of them. Abby would have followed her example, but received such an unmistakable signal from Fanny that she obediently postponed her leave-taking. The reason for the signal was disclosed as soon as the Weaverhams had departed, Lavinia eagerly asking her mama if Fanny might not stay to dine with them. 'Do say she may, Mama! I want to show her the ravishing things Oliver bought for me in India, particularly the shawl – no, not a shawl: I don't mean the Cashmere shawls, though they are the finest I ever saw in my life! – but the other thing –'

  'Sari,' supplied her brother, smiling.

  'Oh, yes! Sari!' said Lavinia, committing it to memory. 'And the sketches you drew of all those strange places, and natives, and things! Mama – ?'

  'Why, certainly, my love!' Mrs Grayshott responded. 'If Miss Wendover permits!'

  'Miss Wendover thinks, as I am persuaded you do too, ma'am, that the invalid has had enough visitors for one day,' said Abby. 'Another time, Fanny!'

  Fanny nodded, and got up. 'Yes, of course. I did think it might not be quite the thing to do!'

  This instantly drew protests and assurances from Lavinia and Oliver, under cover of which Mrs. Grayshott said: 'I wish you will let her stay! She is doing Oliver so much good! He does his best to hide it from me, but he is in very low spirits, feeling, I think, that he has failed to justify his uncle's confidence – oh, absurd, of course, but one knows how it is with boys! But dear little Fanny has three times made him laugh, quite in his old way! Let her remain with us! You know we keep country-hours! Martha shall bring her home before it is dark, I promise you.'

  'My dear ma'am, if you do indeed wish it – ! But as for putting your Martha to the trouble of escorting her, most certainly not! I'll send the carriage for her, and only hope she may not be very much in your way!'

  She then took leave of her hostess. So did Mr Miles Calverleigh: a circumstance which she regarded with mixed feelings. He followed her down the stairs, and it occurred to her that his object might be to apologise for having alarmed her so much half-an-hour before. But as she had by this time formed a very fair estimate of his character she was not much surprised when his first words to her, as soon as the street-door was shut behind them, were: 'Do tell me! – Who, and what, is Sir Joshua?'

  'Sir Joshua,' she replied primly, 'is Lady Weaverham's husband, sir.'

  'Yes, my pretty pea-goose, and Sophy's father too!' he said outrageously. 'My powerful intellect has enabled me to assimilate those barren facts! Don't act the dunce!'

  'Let me tell you, sir, that if you wish to be accepted into Bath society you will do well to mend your manners!' retorted Abby.

  'I've none to mend, and not the smallest wish to be accepted into Bath, or any other, society. And if Bath society is composed of Lady Weaverham and her like –'

  'Of course it isn't!' she interrupted impulsively. 'I mean – Oh, what a detestable man you are!'

  'Well, if that's what you meant to say you must have a very hubble-bubble mind!' he commented. 'I may be detestable – in fact, I know I am – but what has that to say to anything?' He added, as she resolutely bit her lip: 'Yes, do laugh! You have a pretty laugh, and I like the way your eyes dance.'

  Guiltily aware that this very improper speech had pleased rather than offended her, she said, as coolly as she could: 'We were discussing the Weaverhams, I think. They are very kind, worthy people, and although they are not – not the pink of gentility, they are generally well-liked.'

  'Full of juice, eh?' he said, showing at once his understanding and his disregard for polite ambiguities. 'Where did they pick up the title? In the City?'

  'I don't know. Sir Joshua certainly was engaged in Trade, until he retired – they make no secret of that – but – but in a perfectly respectable way!'

  'No need to defend him,' he said kindly. 'I've been engaged in trade myself, though I daresay you wouldn't say respectably.'

  'I should be astonished if I discovered that you had done anything respectably!' declared Abby, goaded into retort. Shocked by her own lapse from propriety, she was thankful to see that they had reached York House, and added hastily: 'Our ways part here, sir, so I will say goodbye!'

  'No, don't! it would be premature! I'm going to escort you to your home.'

  'I am obliged to you, but it is quite unnecessary, I assure you!'

  She had stopped by the entrance to the hotel, and held out her hand, repeating; 'Goodbye, Mr Calverleigh!'

  'If you imagine that I am going to walk behind you, like a footman, all the way to Sydney Place, you are mightily mistaken, Miss Abigail Wendover!' he said, taking her hand, and drawing it within his arm. 'Is it now the established mode for young females to jaunter about the town unattended? It wasn't so when I lived in England!'

  'I am not a young female, and I don't jaunter!' replied Abby hotly, pulling her hand away, but walking on beside him. 'Times have changed since you lived in England, sir!'

  'Yes, alas, and not for the better!' he agreed, in a mournful tone. 'Bear with my foibles, ma'am! Being yourself stricken in years, that shouldn't be difficult!'

  A chuckle escaped her. 'Don't be so absurd!' she admonished him. 'I may not be stricken in years, but I am no longer of an age when I need chaperonage. I don't care to let Fanny go out alone, though I know several mothers who see no objection to it here. Not in London, of course.' She paused, and said, after a moment: 'May I request you, sir, to take care what you say to Fanny? Since you have seen fit to inform her that you knew her mother very well, she may try to talk to you about Celia, and she is sufficiently needle-witted to add two and two together. I'm aware that you did it to put me in a quake, but,